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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412351">In 200 Yards, Turn Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard/pseuds/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard'>TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, And Faster Romance, Fast Cars, Illegal Activities, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Street Racing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:40:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard/pseuds/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>motorsport, yeah, put that thang in sport.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>284</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Green Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Changbin’s voice is shockingly calm when he says, “I think this guy wants to challenge you.” He’s in the passenger seat and is paying more attention to the color-matching game on his phone than anything else. “He thinks he can take you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Felix peels a bit more dirt from beneath his fingernails as he waits for the red light on Eden Drive to change. It’s notoriously long even when there’s no traffic coming the other way. Like the system is glitched. “Who?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Some jock in a bright green Beamer. A 2010, I think? It’s hard to tell from this angle. Big ass spoiler on the back like he’s fucking overcompensating.” Changbin takes his eyes off of the side mirror to look back down at his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix drums out a rhythm on the Mustang’s steering wheel. “Do we look like we want to race?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You drive a GT,” Changbin answers his question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix looks up into the rearview. Traffic looks normal to him, considering the hour, but even as he watches, he notices the vehicle several car lengths behind them in the next lane flashing their brights. Felix can hear them gunning their engine even over his music. Felix glances at his watch. There’s still time before the meetup. He can treat this like he’s pregaming. But… “Let’s take it easy and see if they keep it up at Holton Street.” He’s not opposed to putting some random chickenhead in their place on a green light but traffic’s a bit too heavy for his liking this close to downtown and he knows the cops like to lurk around the blocks leading up to the big bridge. It’s summer and they’re out for blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The light turns green. Felix lets off the clutch easy and runs the car through its gears like he has good sense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Traffic moves across the intersection and around the tight left curve that dips into the short tunnel beneath the museum complex. The world around them goes orange from the industrial lights along the tunnel length. Changbin goes, “Fuck yes. Finally beat that level!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix keeps an eye on his rearview and watches the BMW duck and weave between cars. They cut dangerously close in front of a minivan. The van blows their horn and slams on brakes which causes the car behind them to also blow their horn and slam on brakes. Felix puts his eyes back on the street but he can practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Beamer close in on him. The flashing brights are nearly impossible to ignore now but Felix grits his teeth and stays below the speed limit as the road pulls out of the tunnel and hooks right, away from downtown. Away from the beach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The light’s red at Holton Street so Felix slows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Usually, the car garage at the corner is lit up about as neon as a club, but it’s all shuttered up tonight. Of course it would be. There’s a race tonight. No one who is anyone would still be at work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he’s coming for you,” Changbin announces. He sounds more gleeful than agitated. “He wants a piece of your ass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pssh,” Felix rolls his eyes and keeps his focus on the traffic light as cars pull in behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now the Beamer is only a single car length behind them in the left lane. They still flash their brights. They still gun their engine and the girl sounds absolutely demonic through the post-factory exhaust. Really, it’s a shit ton of noise and Felix finds himself gripping the steering wheel with both hands preemptively. 10 and 2. Ready.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But fucking shit. An eighteen-wheeler’s just pulled out in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” Changbin asks. “Are we gonna fucking do it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bridge is two blocks up. A straightaway nearly a mile long. It would be perfect if the stars align.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix forces himself to relax. He lets out a breath and turns the volume up on a bouncy pop song. Lady Gaga? Ariana Grande? One of those. Maybe both. “We’ll wait. We’ve got another block.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The light turns green.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix accelerates slowly on purpose in hopes that the guy will get bored. He switches into the left lane to get around the eighteen-wheeler then he slides back over into the right lane when he’s got the room. Nice and slow and unassuming, he thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Changbin’s antsy for action. “We should have lost them earlier. If anything,” he says, “you’re now giving them a chance to catch up to us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe that’s what Felix has wanted all this time. Subconsciously. “Well, damn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Prius that was next to them slows down to make a left into an apartment complex, which puts some distance between them and the BMW for half a block, but before Felix can even flip radio stations, the BMW guns it across the double yellow lines into opposing traffic just to illegally pass the Prius and roll up next to them. They gun the engine. They roll their windows down to let noisy hip-hop spill out into the night air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, dude in the passenger seat is hot,” Changbin observes. “He’s got a pretty forehead. Can you have a pretty forehead? I guess you can because he has a pretty forehead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stare,” Felix warns him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even turning your head and making eye contact can be seen as accepting a challenge so Felix keeps his eyes forward and continues to go slow as they close in on the last red light before the bridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t lose to a hottie,” Changbin complains.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix doesn’t respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” whines Changbin. “We can’t lose to these guys! What if I stand a chance with one of them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix stops for the red light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The BMW is right next to them. Still revving. Lights flashing. There’s no more confusion now. They want a drag race and they want it now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They aren’t going to let you off,” says Changbin. And, by this point, it sounds like he’s not going to let Felix off either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alright then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix finds a radio station blasting drums &amp; bass and turns it up until the windows rattle. He pops a crick in his neck, takes his hands off the steering wheel so that he can twist the silver ring on his right middle finger for luck and then he grips the gear shift with his right hand, clutches the bottom of the wheel with his left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin knows what</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> means. In the passenger seat, he exits out of his game, brings up his phone camera and immediately starts recording video. “Other light’s turning yellow,” he warns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Good. Only one car made the left turn to get on the bridge in front of them. Only one car is in their way and they can easily get around it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix turns to his right to watch the light on that side go red but then he sees it and screams, “Shit!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The light goes green.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The BMW </span>
  <em>
    <span>floors</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. The engine screams. Tires squeal. A tiny red flame shoots out of the exhaust with a loud, firecracker pop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix still sits at the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin punches Felix’s arm. “Dude! What was--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The police siren pierces the still night. Pierces through the pounding wobble of Felix’s music. The cop car sitting at the other light guns it, turns, chases the Beamer, red and blues flashing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit,” Changbin exhales. “Fuck. I’m usually good at spotting them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even over such a distance, the two boys hear the BMW downshift and rev higher, gun faster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s gonna try to outrun the cops,” Changbin says. He almost whistles, he’s so impressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At long last, with the cars behind him honking, Felix accelerates off the line. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That could have been us</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. If he hadn’t looked over and seen the fucking Charger, they’d be getting chased too. He’s been tailed by cops before, duh, but the last thing he wants to do is drive the gray shirts straight to the meetup. He can only hope the guys in the Beamer don’t know about the race. Or if they do, they better be smart enough to keep to the right on the other side of the bridge and take the cops towards the headland instead of going west towards the old airport.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix is ready and willing to stay five below the limit and keep his nose out of business that ain’t his own but Changbin, on the other hand, still clings to some skewed sense of street honor. “You’ve got to get the pigs off their tail.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road narrows as they close in on the bridge. It’s a straight shot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if he’s the love of my life, Felix,” Changbin goes on. “His forehead, Felix. His forehead!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Felix only thinks about it for a split-second longer before he downshifts to third gear and fucking slams the gas pedal to the floor.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Red Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix is expecting it, he’s had the Mustang for two goddamn years, of course he knows what the fuck it can do, but the sudden acceleration still punches the air out of his lungs. Still makes his stomach jump with butterflies like he just got his first kiss. It’s no different from a rollercoaster launching him back into his seat as the tires grip the asphalt. The speedometer climbs and the engine roars and his heart pounds at a faster BPM than the music. </p><p> </p><p>50 mph. 60 mph. 70 mph.</p><p> </p><p>He swings from one lane to the next to get around the rickety four-door blocking the way and then it’s clear from here to the bridge. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve seen the future,” Changbin says. He leans over the center console to get closer to Felix’s ear to be heard over the chaos. “Me and Forehead move into a beachside villa. We paint it bright yellow and get a big dog we take on walks in the sand. I open up a tiki bar. We adopt six kids. We grow old together. Please, Felix, <em> please </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m trying.” Felix shifts into fourth and that’s <em> really </em> when he can hear the Mustang sing, the engine rumbling raw and throaty like thunder through the exhaust. “I’m gonna save your fucking husband from the clink.”</p><p> </p><p>80 mph. 90 mph. 100 mph.</p><p> </p><p>Felix shifts into fifth and it almost feels like the Mustang is about to take flight. Faster and faster. The adrenaline sizzles in Felix’s veins and he only then remembers to suck in a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>110 mph. 120 mph.</p><p> </p><p>It only takes <em> seconds </em>. Felix blinks and the last block of the city has whirled past them in a streak of lights and color.</p><p> </p><p>Changbin lets out an excited holler and completely forgets that he’s supposed to be recording this shit. He lifts his phone back up and records the action as they drive up and over the bridge. It’s a beautiful view with the water below them and the full moon reflecting across the bay but neither of them are looking down.</p><p> </p><p>They close in on the cop car and its flashing lights.</p><p> </p><p>The Beamer is just ahead of it. Whoever is in the driver’s seat of such a beast rolls their window down just a tad, sticks their hand out and holds up a peace sign like they’re out for a casual Sunday trip to the grocery store after church.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s Felix’s turn to fall in love a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Just crossed the halfway point,” Changbin tells him. “We’ll be at the other side before you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>130 mph. 140 mph.</p><p> </p><p>The mile-long bridge goes by faster than Felix wishes it did.</p><p> </p><p>The Mustang inches closer and closer to the Charger’s tail lamps. He’s got the pedal pressed to the floor and he can tell they aren’t going to get much more speed than this. It’ll have to be enough. He eases into the next lane to get from behind the Charger and slowly pulls up alongside the cop, the Mustang’s engine screaming at its max. If this were some action movie franchise and if he were Vin Diesel, he’d just sideswipe the Charger through the bridge’s guardrail and watch it drop through the air to the water below but this is real life so Felix keeps his eyes on the lane ahead as he inches in front of the Charger.</p><p> </p><p>The next step is fucking risky. But now that Felix has gotten this far, he may as well see it through to the end. He abruptly changes lanes, barely clearing the Charger’s hood.</p><p> </p><p>Now the cop car is blaring its siren and flashing its lights at<em> them </em> and it triggers Felix’s fight or flight response a bit. Fuck. He should have stayed at the light! He should have just gone to the race! But maybe love fucking exists. Maybe Changbin’s met his goddamn soulmate or something. Felix grips the steering wheel, lets off the accelerator and taps on brakes.</p><p> </p><p>The Charger gets dangerously close. In fact, Felix is positive he feels a mild impact as the Charger makes contact with his back bumper.</p><p> </p><p>Or it could be the bass of his music rattling the chassis.</p><p> </p><p>Felix taps the brakes a little harder. They drop speed considerably.</p><p> </p><p>The Charger attempts to swing into the next lane to get around them but Felix swings too. <em> This </em> is an action movie maneuver he can do. The Charger goes right. Felix matches him there too, keeping steady pressure on the brakes, forcing the gap between the Charger and the Beamer to increase.</p><p> </p><p>The cop goes left but Felix knows it is a feint. He doesn’t budge from the lane. The cop jerks, overcompensates with the steering, brakes hard to avoid a collision. But they brake too hard and lose control. Felix sees the back end fishtail. Smoke billows up from beneath the Charger’s wheels as they spin.</p><p> </p><p>Felix downshifts and slams on the gas. The Mustang roars.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fucking shit, dude,” Changbin yells with excitement. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He spins around in his seat to point his phone out the back window, keeping the action in frame.</p><p> </p><p>The cop car behind them is lost beneath a plume of white smoke, the red and blues lighting up the cloud like wicked sparks of lightning. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve escaped. </p><p> </p><p>Felix keeps his foot on the gas. Keeps the Beamer’s bright green paint in his headlights.</p><p> </p><p>The end of the bridge comes up on them fast as fuck and even the Beamer lets up on their absolutely ridiculous speed as the two sports cars rejoin the world of regular traffic.</p><p> </p><p>Thank fuck the light is green at the base of the bridge. Thank fuck there’s not another cop at the intersection.</p><p> </p><p>The two cars slow to beneath the speed limit but Felix still feels like he’s flying. Like he’s free falling. He grips the steering wheel with both hands because his whole body is shaking.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna call backup,” Changbin realizes. He points his phone out the front windshield to get a good shot of the Beamer’s stupidly large spoiler. “God. You fucking know he’s got a description of the car. The pigs are gonna be on the streets in minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>He brings up a good fucking point. They aren’t quite at the edge of town yet. There’s still a few city blocks to cross before they’re out in the sticks. Out by the old airport. There’s a slim chance they’ll make it all the way out that way without getting tailed. Even if they fucking obey traffic laws.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” Felix curses. He turns the music down just so he can hear himself think. They should park somewhere. Get off the street for a bit until the heat dies down. </p><p> </p><p>Although the bright glow of a Shell station across the street seems almost heavenly, it’s too damn close to the bridge.</p><p> </p><p>A block down, the parking lot of the movie theater looks absolutely appealing. It’s packed for the weekend but, dammit, Felix is still jittery from his brazen fucking act and before he even realizes it, he’s passed the turn.</p><p> </p><p>Shit. What are they gonna do? </p><p> </p><p>Fortunately, the answer comes to him sooner than he ever thought it would. The driver of the BMW rolls down their window, sticks their arm out into the night air and hooks a thumb over the roof.</p><p> </p><p>A right turn.</p><p> </p><p>Felix eases off the gas and follows the Beamer down a side street and then they make another turn between two buildings to the very narrow, dimly-lit parking lot of an apartment complex. </p><p> </p><p>They park on the far side of the lot, away from the street lamps where the asphalt turns to gravel, and cut the engine. The silence is kind of deafening and Felix can hear the low hum of his own pulse in his ears. He is still fumbling to undo his seatbelt when the Beamer’s doors swing open.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no,” Changbin whimpers. “Oh no oh no. Holy shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix fears they’ve been caught by the cops already and his eyes go straight to the rearview. Fuck. They’re practically sitting ducks in a corner like this! But… no other car comes into the parking lot behind them. “What is it,” he asks, unclenching his hands and relaxing back into the seat. “Why are you fucking spazzing?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re both hot,” explains Changbin. “They’re both super fucking hot and, fuckity fuck, they’re both walking this way.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix looks in the direction Changbin is staring.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah. The two guys walking towards his car <em> are </em> hot. Forehead has these impressive eyebrows and this shit-eating grin on his face. He looks calm and relaxed like he hasn’t just gotten himself out of a cop chase. The driver of the car, however, is who really gets Felix gasping. Tall and lean, broad shoulders but a tiny, snatched waist. Long long long legs with a wickedly pretty face and firetruck red hair.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s hot,” Felix mumbles. He doesn’t even mean to voice such an opinion aloud. It just slips out unbidden. Honest.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s out of my league,” moans Changbin. “What the fuck. Why did I think I had a chance? Oh my god. As soon as I open this door, I’m going to trip and fall on my face. I just know it. I just fucking know it, man. He’s going to point at me and laugh and we’re never gonna get that beach bungalow. We’re never gonna get a dog!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Felix tells him. Sometimes, Changbin can be a little <em> much </em>. “They’ll just thank us and then we can head out to the meetup.”</p><p> </p><p>Changbin runs his hands through his hair. “Wait. Where’d the other one go? I was just looking.” </p><p> </p><p>Red Hair props an elbow up on the roof of the Mustang and leans his face close to the glass to knock.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so uncool,” Changbin keeps going. “I’m never going to get married.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix shushes him and rolls down the window.</p><p> </p><p>Red Hair doesn’t even look like the type to be into cars. He looks so soft around the edges and his smile is alarmingly friendly and bright. “Thanks for looking out,” he says. “I fully expected you to chicken out.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s an insult. Felix knows one when he sees it.</p><p> </p><p>He’s just about to counter with something equally abrasive when Changbin yelps in a high octave Felix had no idea he could reach.</p><p> </p><p>Felix looks over and sees Forehead pressed close to the passenger-side window.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop fucking with him, Jisung,” Red Hair snaps.</p><p> </p><p>Changbin slaps a hand over his chest, every muscle in his body still tense from the scare.</p><p> </p><p>“Cops around here give up pretty quickly,” says Red Hair. “Sit tight for half an hour and you’ll be good.” Then he leans back, away from the window. “Then again, almost everyone in this town drives a fucking Mustang so maybe you won’t need to sit out that long.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s another insult. And Felix definitely isn’t about to let anybody shit talk his love for good ole American muscle and get away with it. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, that Mustang saved our asses,” says Jisung, stealing the words straight out of Felix’s mouth. He joins Red Hair at the open driver’s side window and adds, “Without him, we’d be sitting in the backseat of a Charger right now.” </p><p> </p><p>Red Hair clearly knows his friend is right but he frowns and peers down at Felix. “What’s your name?”</p><p> </p><p>“And who's your friend,” Jisung pipes up.</p><p> </p><p>Felix points to himself. “Felix.” Then he swings an arm out towards his passenger. “And that’s Changbin.” </p><p> </p><p>That’s about as far as Red Hair wants to get, it seems. “Welp. See you around.”</p><p> </p><p>Jisung slaps him on the shoulder. “Just let them come upstairs for a bit, Minho. We can’t take your car anywhere tonight, for fuck’s sake, so just let them chill.”</p><p> </p><p>Minho. Felix files the name away. It’s hot. Just like who it belongs to.</p><p> </p><p>Minho sighs like this is the worst thing in the world and says, “Do you guys wanna come up?”</p><p> </p><p>Barely audible, Changbin whispers, “Say yes, say yes, say yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Felix surrenders.</p><p> </p><p>Minho smiles. He reaches into the car, presses the unlock button and then pulls open the driver’s door. “We’re just going up long enough to get Jisung’s car keys. Don’t get comfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix gets out of the car. “Cool with us. We’ve got somewhere to be tonight anyways.” </p><p> </p><p>Changbin swings open his door and miraculously manages to climb out without tangling himself in the seatbelt strap or tripping over his own shoes. </p><p><br/>Now <em> that’s </em> some talent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Blue Label</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Minho’s apartment is exactly what Felix expects from this kind of dudebro.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, these are his people. He’s a dudebro too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The apartment is overly warm and stuffy like Minho’s never opened a window or turned the AC cooler than 75 before. The ceiling fan is on but spins too slowly to alleviate much of the lingering summer heat. The air smells like Axe body spray as if Minho spritzes it like Febreze. Empty beer bottles are lined up along the foyer wall like decorations. When Minho swings open the fridge door to grab his last bottle of Dasani, the only other things on the shelf are a box of Arm &amp; Hammer and a grease-stained red and white take-out bag from a Chinese restaurant. The kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes. There’s a poster of some busty chick in a skimpy, striped bikini thumbtacked to the wall next to the front door and a huge, framed photograph of a gold Lamborghini Aventador hangs on the wall above the bookshelf like the car is fine art. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice place,” Felix says, more as a formality than a true compliment. He doesn’t want to toot his own horn but his own place is better. Probably because it sits ten floors up and has a partially uninterrupted view of the beach and boardwalk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” huffs Minho. He shakes the water bottle as if that’ll add some kind of flavor. “I’ve only been here about two months. Haven’t bought shit for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can see that,” says Felix.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unopened letters sit in a pile on the floor in front of the stereo. Only one raggedy recliner sits in front of the plasma screen, but there</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the entire front bumper of a car just chilling, leaning against the wall where a couch would be if Minho had a couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jisung, hurry up,” Minho shouts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m pissing,” Jisung shouts back from down the hall, through the open bathroom door. “Fuck off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we’re late, you’re walking back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s my car,” Jisung reminds him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> walking back.” Then it’s just the noise of him urinating and singing terribly off-key to a pop song.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix fidgets a little. He’s known these guys all of a minute so he feels like he’s intruding even though he was invited up. He hasn’t stepped too far past the laminate flooring in front of the front door and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other since there isn’t really a place to sit. Changbin, however, doesn’t mind whatever imaginary social boundaries Felix frets over. Changbin walks from one end of the living room to the other, squinting at the boxes of Blu-Ray movies and PS4 game cases in towering stacks on the floor. “Oh sweet,” he exclaims. “You’ve got the new Call of Duty!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho uncaps his water bottle and takes a sip. Some of it misses his mouth and water slides down his chin and along his neck. It’s a dazzling sight. Borderline pornographic when his Adam’s apple gets to bobbing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix forces himself to stare at the popcorn ceiling instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys going to the meetup,” Minho asks after clearing his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin gets a little sparkle in his eyes like a dog who has just been told they’re going for a walk. “Yes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix takes his eyes off of the ceiling to look over at Minho. “You know about that,” he asks. Usually, these things stay a bit more secret, you know, to reduce the percentage of snitches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duh,” says Minho. Then they have to wait a solid ten seconds as he gulps down more of his water. “I got a personal invite from Chan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s fucking huge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin goes, “Holy fuckballs. You know Chan?” Everybody knows Chan but not everybody </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> Chan. “For realsies?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho rolls his eyes like it’s not that big of a deal. “Duh.” Then he fixes his gaze on Felix. “Who do you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Felix almost feels embarrassed for saying it now. It would have been quite a name drop under any other circumstances but in comparison to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chan</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not so much. “Hyunjin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The corners of Minho’s lips quirk up and his throat tightens like he is this close from laughing in Felix’s face. “Of course you do.” And it’s not so much doubt as it is disappointment. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s who Felix knows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He texted me about tonight,” Felix continues even though he wasn’t asked. “He wanted to see me out there.” And the convo was outside the group chat so it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>specifically for him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho still doesn’t look impressed. He chugs the rest of his water, chucks the bottle in the overflowing trash can and screams, “Jisung! Goddammit. Hurry up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fuck, I’m on the way,” Jisung hollers. They hear him flush the toilet, hear him run the faucet for all of five seconds, then he comes out into the hallway with this confident little strut that practically has Changbin foaming at the mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s a good looking guy, Felix determines. Bleached hair sits coiffed on top of his head and just a smidgen of a tattoo visibly creeps above the hem of his shirt and crawls up his neck. He jangles a set of keys in his hand. “Alright, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho checks his watch. “We’ll be cutting it close.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung snorts. “The second we’re out in the wetlands, I’m flooring it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin leans up against Felix and whispers into his ear, “Correction. We’re adopting multiple dogs. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A continuation of his little beachside fantasy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix lets him have the moment. He pats Changbin on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You probably won’t be surprised at all, Jisung,” Minho starts, waving a hand in the direction of their guests, “but these fuckers are going to the meetup too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung looks over at them and raises an eyebrow, mouth slightly parted in genuine surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know right,” says Minho, as if Jisung has just said something profound, “the slick car isn’t just for show. Never would have guessed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung says five words that absolutely cements his place in Changbin’s heart: “Think you can keep up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Changbin says, like he’s standing at the altar with a ring on his hand, waiting to kiss the groom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix elbows him in the side to knock some sense into him and then he glares up at Minho and Jisung. “I still have to fucking prove myself to you guys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho sucks on his teeth like the answer he’s got won’t be pleasant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung pushes past them all to get to the front door. “Enough talking with words. Let’s let the engines speak for us.” He pulls open the door and leads the way outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s hot and humid and noisy outdoors. Someone further upstairs is blasting reggaeton on shitty speakers and the scratchy sound echoes between the buildings constantly and removes any sort of rhythm by the time the song makes it down to them. There’s the faint, smoky smell of charcoal on a grill and, if Felix trains his ears, he can hear laughter and splashing water. Must be a pool nearby. Probably on the other side of the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung goes, “Bitch, if I didn’t drive out here earlier tonight, we’d be fucking screwed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Minho grunts. “Just get in the fucking car.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin tugs on Felix’s elbow and Felix slows down to let the other two men head down the concrete stairs first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it,” Felix asks. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin frowns. It looks like he’s about to say something serious. He goes, “That Jisung guy has barely looked at me. Am I not his type?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I have worn a tighter shirt? You know I’ve been working out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pleeeeeease,” Felix begs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That doesn’t stop Changbin. “Does he know what he’s missing out on? I’ll do the cooking. I’ll do the cleaning!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Changbin, I swear to God…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to get him. I swear. I’m going to start implementing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>plan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Felix snaps back at him, but he’s giggling. Changbin’s such a fucking doofus sometimes. “Or he’ll fucking hear you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> gets Changbin to snap his lips shut as they descend the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out in the parking lot, some dude pops open his trunk and blasts ground-shaking EDM through beefy speakers as if to rival the reggaeton upstairs. There’s a loud popping noise and Felix spends a harrowing second playing Gun Or Fireworks in his head until he hears another pop and sees a bright burst of yellow light in the sky above the building. Fuck. It’s not even July yet!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The four of them walk in single-file down the breezeway towards the parking lot but don’t get far when someone in dark clothing steps out of the shadows right in front of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still on edge, Felix instinctively freezes, thinking it’s a cop who has tracked down the BMW. He gets ready to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>run for it</span>
  </em>
  <span> but then Jisung and the tall stranger slap hands and bump chests like old bros.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Felix’s side, Changbin whines, “Oh no, he’s hot too. I’m gonna fucking lose it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, dude, can you pick one and stick one,” Felix asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I prefer to be the one getting stuck, but okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix looks over at him, eyebrows furrowed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” sighs Changbin, like it’s the worst goddamn thing in the world. “You can have him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s not really what Felix means, but--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is up, Seungmin,” Jisung shouts. “Wasn’t expecting you to be here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me neither,” the guy named Seungmin says. He slaps hands and bumps chests with Minho as well. “I was supposed to be going to the bar with Jaebum but he bailed on me to fuck his girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho sighs. “Again? Didn’t I tell you that bro will put hoes first?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which bar,” Jisung asks, as if that’s the most important thing here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sharks,” Seungmin answers, he waves a hand over his shoulder like that’s supposed to help them determine which place he’s talking about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung makes a show of dry heaving. “That fucking sports bar down on Princeton? You’re not fucking missing anything. God, he’s so goddamn heterosexual. You wanna come with us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin shrugs his shoulders up to his ears. “I need something to do. Jaebum literally left me stranded out here to go scoop up some pussy. I was about to call a cab when I saw your car in the lot. Thought I’d wait around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t call,” Jisung questions. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks it as if to be sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude. New phone,” Seungmin explains. He pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks it with a press of his thumb. The device is sleek and thin. Doesn’t even have a case on it. “I got that brand new shit. Dude at Verizon couldn’t get the contacts to transfer. I’ve been begging people on Instagram for numbers since last weekend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hand it over,” Jisung tells him. He taps the screen a few times and starts punching in his info. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin is in Felix’s ear again. A little devil on his shoulder. “Ain’t he hot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where Minho’s handsomeness is wielded almost like a weapon in his hand, Seungmin’s prettiness is like a flower bouquet or some poetic shit like that. He’s got a long, narrow face and soft-looking lips and whenever he jerks his head to get his dark hair out of his eyes, Felix catches sight of multiple piercings through his left eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix wants him. But he doesn’t know how to ask for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung is still fiddling with the phone. “I’ll give you Minho’s number too. Come on.” He starts walking, eyes still on the screen. “You can sit in the back seat, Seungmin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho punches him in the back. “Jisung, you don’t fucking have a back seat!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung slaps his forehead and goes, “Oh! Holy shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho says, “And I’m not sitting two in a seat like we did that other time. Do you know how fucking uncomfortable that is? I bet we can get pulled over for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin’s expression falters at the prospect of yet another of his evening plans for the night falling through. “What about the Beamer? Please don’t tell me you wrecked it already. You just got it dipped!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Ran from some cops,” Minho explains. “Barely got out and wanna lay low til she’s off the radar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanna know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a back seat,” Jisung exclaims suddenly. And then he turns all the way around and points so aggressively that Felix almost raises his hands in surrender. “This guy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a bit shocking becoming the center of attention all at once when he’s gone so long feeling ignored. “Hey,” Felix chokes out, part greeting and part exclamation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin steps forward, a bit more into the glow of the street lamp. “Who’s this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix is fucking done for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our new buddy,” Minho says. “Fester?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the fucking Addams Family,” Jisung sneers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” Felix introduces himself and he can’t tell by the smirk on Minho’s face if he’s fucking with him on purpose or accidentally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Felix, huh,” Seungmin repeats. He holds out a hand and Felix goes for a palm slap and chest bump. “Name sounds familiar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really,” Felix wonders. Then he clamps a lid down on his excitement. “Well, I’ve been racing around here for a few months now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin nods slowly. “That might be it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not until then that Felix clocks the fact that they are still standing almost chest to chest, hands clasped. He pulls back and is almost shocked when Seungmin resists as if he wants to keep Felix up against him. Then he seems to come to his senses and he lets Felix go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You racing tonight,” he asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Felix says. He’s already told Hyunjin he wants to do the downhill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to fucking get going,” Minho shouts. He has to shout because the assholes in the parking lot are still blasting music even though it’s fucking 9PM on a weeknight. Minho shoves Jisung first and then Seungmin out towards the parking lot. “We’re going to fucking miss the first event.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin is in Felix’s ear again, luring him closer to temptation. “You didn’t hear this from me but he almost went for an ass grab.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Felix says, faster than he can stop it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was gonna fucking go for it,” Changbin elaborates. “But he saw me looking and stopped. He’s such a fucking gentleman. You’ve got a good one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix turns around long enough to make sure the others aren’t eavesdropping. “Do you… Do you want me to thank you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin shakes his head furiously. “No. I want you to do something to get your ass grabbed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking invite him to. Just say he can go for both cheeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Changbin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin pulls away to laugh. “It usually works! At least it did on Yugyeom. We made out under that tree for a fucking hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I doubt that’s all you did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, you told me you didn’t want details last time. Do you want details?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not when we’ve got company.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix and Changbin follow the other three at a much slower pace out into the parking lot. Jisung unlocks the doors on a pitch black, early aughts Corvette and he and Minho get in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho shouts out the door, “Follow us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung adds, “Don’t get lost in my exhaust,” before he’s slamming the driver’s door shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix presses the button on his key fob to get the ‘Stang to unlock her doors and burn her lights.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin falls into step next to them as they cross the gravel. “You don’t mind if I ride, do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it may be a little late to ask, all things considered, but it’s not like Felix is just gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>deny</span>
  </em>
  <span> the guy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth to say something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can ride,” Changbin beats him to it with an obnoxious cackle. “In fact, I’ll sit in the back and let you two have the front. How about that?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Yellow Tail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Felix doesn’t mean to show off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not… at first. Not really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Jisung keeps a </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavy</span>
  </em>
  <span> foot on the gas, even with all the dense uptown traffic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yellow lights at intersections mean ‘gun it’ not ‘slow down.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stop signs are merely a suggestion. And if it’s a yield? It may as well not be there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyone actually going the speed limit gets their back windows flooded by headlight brights till they change lanes and get out of the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You know, just safe driving practices.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix has to play more aggressively than he’s used to. Jisung must be a madman if he drives like this. Then again, they’re in a hurry. Felix squeals tires taking off at every red light. He pumps the clutch and slams through the gears like he’s got cops on his ass. He cuts cars off dangerously fucking close. He runs at least two red lights. All so he can keep the shiny black paint of Jisung’s Corvette in his headlights. Felix is making a right on red when he looks up and spots the wide, delighted grin on Seungmin’s face. He’s loving this shit. His grin is hypnotizing. It’s addicting. Felix immediately wants to condense it into liquid and pump it straight into his veins. That’s how giddy it makes him feel. Like he’s falling skull first into love.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or whatever this feeling at the base of his spine is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, now he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to show off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch this,” he shouts over his music, then he floors it to swoop across the yellow lines to get around some Altima tapping brakes for no reason. Headlights flood his vision. Brights blink on and off but he’s got the room. He’s got the speed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix glances into their window long enough to see some chick on her phone, her face all blue and ghastly from the light of the screen. He wonders what’s more dangerous: driving into oncoming traffic or driving while texting?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the back seat, Changbin leans forward into the tiny space between Felix’s headrest and the window. “I know what you’re doing,” he whispers. “And I think it’s working.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix slips back into an appropriate lane with plenty of time to spare and then guns it to close the distance between himself and the Corvette before he gets caught on the unfriendly side of a red light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix loves this side of town. It’s all gleaming office towers and ritzy apartment buildings, fancy bars and upscale restaurants, palm trees and yellow flowers blooming in neat arrangements on the wide sidewalks, bridges lit up like Christmas. But they stay pushing 60 in a 45 so it’s not like he can admire the glitzy, gentrified streets. It’s all blurs of neon in his rearview.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they get to the lengthy straightaway on Dogwood Avenue, Felix finds himself in a dangerously exhilarating game of chicken with Jisung. He rides Jisung’s ass like he’s trying to put the Mustang up the Corvette’s exhaust pipes and Jisung fakes him out with a light brake tap or two but when Jisung actually slams it, Felix is ready with the handbrake. Tires squeal. Smoke drifts up from the back end. Everyone yanks forward until the seatbelts snap them back. The smell of burnt rubber fills the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Jisung takes off like a rocket and Felix pops the handbrake down and downshifts to keep up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Seungmin gasps. He sounds so fucking breathless. His soft voice has hardened over like crystal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even Changbin takes his eyes off of his mobile game to mutter, “Show off.” But he’s grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrenaline sizzles in Felix’s veins. His heart hammers in his chest. Maybe some of the excess blood goes to his dick because he realizes that he’s hard. Tingles of arousal shoot through his stomach. “Ehh, whatever,” he plays it off, even though he can feel his body vibrating with fight or flight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so hot,” Seungmin says, kind of out of context.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix looks over at Seungmin again. They make absolutely electric eye contact. Seungmin bites his bottom lip. Felix puts his eyes back out the windshield before he fucking spins them off the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When his younger brother rides with him, he always grips the door handle in one hand and the edge of the seat in the other, terrified at the mildest acceleration. But Seungmin? Seungmin seems to enjoy it when the torque flings him back in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Felix gives him some torque.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slams on the gas to catch back up with Jisung and Minho. They swoop around a curve and the wheels leave the ground for a wicked second when they go flying over the railroad tracks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two sports cars turn off Dogwood to hook a left on the wide, four-lane out of town.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The buildings shrink in size and dwindle in number. Trees take over. Their branches creep right up to the highway edge, breaking away only to give some factory or distribution center some room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you drive,” Felix asks. Because he realizes they’ve been rolling in quiet for a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” says Seungmin. “But everyone I know does. Jaebum. Carlos. Pedro. Victor. Chuck. Lenny. Junho. Bambam.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix recognizes the name Bambam. If it’s attached to the face he’s thinking of, that guy doesn’t really race. He just struts around meetups in his aviators and Tom Ford suits before getting back in his Aston Martin and going home. Still, though… “Sweet,” he says. “Do you want to drive?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Seungmin repeats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww,” Felix whines. “I was going to offer to teach you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can teach me,” Seungmin states.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix glances up in the rearview mirror just in time to watch Changbin give him a thumb’s up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are at the very edge of town. They clear the last red light within city limits and, just like Jisung promised back in the parking lot, he fucking</span>
  <em>
    <span> floors it</span>
  </em>
  <span> like he’s trying to launch the Corvette into space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix eagerly follows. He glances down at his speedometer long enough to clock that they’re going 95 in a 45. Nope. Now they’re going 105 in a 55. 110. 120. But there’s nobody fucking else on the road and the acceleration feels like freedom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road is straight and long. The trees on either side give way and the wetlands take over, the silver of the moon reflecting on the endless pools of water that stretch off towards the horizon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s so soft that Felix almost doesn’t register it. Just a light brush of air over his knuckles that could be adrenaline. Or it could be the AC pumping out of the vents. But nope. It’s Seungmin’s hand. The guy hesitates for one more second before just going for it and dropping his left hand on top of Felix’s right hand on the gear shift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin lets out a delighted giggle to let Felix know that he sees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix’s heart is already pounding from the high speed they’re going and the way the steering wheel shakes beneath his fist but now his heart is absolutely thudding in his chest from the sweat-sticky heat of Seungmin’s palm on his skin. From the downright obscene way Seungmin slips a finger through the tiny gap between Felix’s thumb and index. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back and forth. Back and forth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you drive,” Seungmin turns slightly to aim the question at Changbin in the back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix taps the button on the steering wheel to turn down the music a bit so they can hear him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Changbin responds. He looks up from his phone. “I detail.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin nods in acknowledgement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s been helping run his dad’s shop for years,” Felix provides. “Changbin turned me into a car guy when I never thought I’d be a fucking car guy.” The shop was next to the bus stop that Felix used to get away from the beach and into the city. Stopping a runaway bucket on a windy day had been the start of his and Changbin’s friendship. And watching a tricked-out Supra pull into the lot thirty seconds after had been the start of Felix’s love affair with fast, pretty cars. “Changbin waxed the ‘Stang just this morning, actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She fucking shines,” Seungmin compliments. He gives Felix’s hand a little squeeze. His hand fucking swallows Felix’s in terms of size. In terms of heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They don’t get too much longer to almost-but-not-quite hold hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a tricky left turn coming up. It’s hard to see during the day because of the trees and the sudden elevation change. It’s near impossible to see at night unless you know the roads so fucking well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin takes his hand off of Felix’s so that he can downshift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung slows. Felix follows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In front, Jisung hooks left but he’s a bit early and his back left wheel catches the dirt, kicks up dust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix takes the left a little wider and, fortunately, stays on the paved road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you come to these things often?” Felix tries not to sound too eager. “I swear I’ve never seen you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This’ll be my first time,” Seungmin admits. “Jaebum never takes me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he… like… your brother or something,” Changbin questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My roommate,” Seungmin corrects. “He used to be super shy. Got real anxious. Legit couldn’t even go to the fucking grocery store by himself without freaking. Then he got a hot girlfriend and, suddenly, he can go everywhere without waiting for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin blows a raspberry. “Pfft.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix goes, “I’ve always gotta have Changbin shotgun.” But it’s more a friendship thing than an anxiety thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Always,” Seungmin asks. He puts his hand back on top of Felix’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not always.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” says Changbin. “I clearly helped you so now you’ve got to help me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix rolls his eyes. “I’ll help you fucking get in Jisung’s pants. Jesus Christ.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Changbin repeats. “I’m trying to get married and adopt dogs and have a mortgage here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you can also get laid,” Felix quips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a plan, okay,” says Changbin. “I have an itinerary. I’m playing the long game.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what Changbin said about Yugyeom week before last and Felix is pretty sure the two of them haven’t gone to any animal shelters. “We’ll see,” Felix says with an eyeroll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That gets a laugh out of Seungmin. He leans over the center console farther than he fucking needs to in order to get close to Felix’s ear. “You trying to get laid too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it’s the bluntness of the question that gets Felix halfway choking. It’s the sudden chill across his palm, even with Seungmin’s hand on top of his. Felix merely repeats, “We’ll see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Farther inland they drive. Away from the miles and miles of wetlands--gator country--and up into the grassy plains. The forgotten foothills.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They know they’re coming up on the right place when the pitch blackness of the landscape absolutely shatters as row after row after row of headlights break the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung slows again to make the right into the old airfield and Felix is right on his bumper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There aren’t really tickets to these things. There’s not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>security</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But there is a tall, beefy guy in dark shades blocking the dirt road. The man gets Jisung to roll his window down and leans in. Even from this distance, Felix sees the man’s hardened face explode into a smile as he recognizes who is inside. He waves Jisung and Minho through the gate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix rolls his window down and pulls up next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy just leans in through the window. Felix sees his own reflection in the dude’s shades. This isn’t the usual guy. Does he not know Felix? Does he not know that he’s good to go? That Hyunjin-- Wait. There’s a brief, tense silence before recognition sparks in Felix’s head. “Taec?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The beefy guy grins. “Jeez, man. I was about to get offended.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Felix exhales. “You look totally fucking different with a buzzcut.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taecyeon shrugs. He’s also put on at least twenty more fucking pounds of muscle. Dude’s getting serious. He says, “You guys are late. Hyunjin’s been asking around for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t missed the downhill, have we,” Felix frets. It’s the one thing he’s come out here to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taecyeon shakes his head. “No, but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> miss the drift show and you’re gonna miss the drag if you don’t fucking hustle.” He waves his arm towards the gate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, man.” Felix accelerates, taking them through the opening in the tall fence topped with barbed wire. There’s probably a no trespassing law they’re violating out here but Chan is fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>organized</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s got watchers posted on every road that swings by this place. If the cops try to pull up, all it takes is a text message and then everyone at the meetup’s got a five-minute head start outta here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Seungmin exhales, face plastered to the passenger window like a kid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a fucking party out here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So many of the crews are out here. Showing up. Showing out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mark Lee and Mark Tuan and their guys are lined up on the left. Every car is covered in decals. Every car fucking glows. Butterfly doors sit sky high. Hip hop blasts through post-fac speakers. Neon lights burn in the undercarriage. Money money money but no skill. That’s why they sit on the sidelines and be pretty. And boy are both Marks </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kevin Moon and his offroad boyz are further in on the right. Their cars are made for the dirt so they’re covered in it. Can’t even see much of the paint job beneath the dried-on mud. Too bad there’s no dirt race tonight. Felix loves watching Kevin behind the wheel. He can get his car to drift and slide on the dirt like it’s ice or some shit. Fucking amazing handling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit. The girls are here.” Changbin points out the front windshield where Dahyun and Jihyo and the rest of the girls pose for the cameras while standing in the headlights of their brightly-painted cars with anime-girl livery. “If they are here… Shit. That means Chan is, like, here-here. And not just here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix swallows hard. He hopes to God Chan’s not doing the goddamn downhill. He may as well quit right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung finds a spot for them to park near the back of the old airport. Really close to one of the runways where the drag is going to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taec was right. They’re about to miss it. The cars are already lined up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix throws up the parking brake and cuts the engine. Then they all unbuckle and get out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung and Minho meet them at the edge of the tarmac but at least they are down here at the end, almost behind the cars, where there’s not much of a crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking shit,” Minho cusses. He’s got a blunt between his fingers and exhales a cloud of white smoke that drifts up to the starry night sky. “I was doing the drag tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We couldn’t risk catching heat,” Jisung tells him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho just puts the blunt between his lips and inhales. “That could’ve been me out there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time,” Changbin coos at him, “you should check for cops before taking off like a lunatic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Minho looks over at them then, almost like he forgot who they were already. He opens his mouth like he’s just dying to be mean, but Jisung cuts in with a--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then you wouldn’t have got to rescue some damsels in distress.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin puffs up his chest with all the courage his little body can hold. “You still in distress? Still need saving?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. Whatever joke he’s got on the tip of his tongue fucking crumbles. He just stares. He just blinks. It’s like he’s looking at Changbin for the first time. Really seeing him and the bulk of his muscles barely contained beneath his shirt. The width of his thighs pushing his jeans to the limit. Jisung clamps his mouth shut. “You any good with tying knots?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin grins. “Tying </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> knot? Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes Jisung a moment to get it but he laughs, head thrown back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the ice thoroughly broken, Changbin takes that as permission to elbow Minho out of his way so that they can change places. So that he can stand next to Jisung.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix is so caught up watching them that he doesn’t remember exactly when Seungmin came up behind him and snaked both his arms around his waist, propped his chin on Felix’s head. Felix usually hates feeling small and swaddled but tonight, right now, he definitely doesn’t mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new wave of noise grabs their attention. They all turn their heads towards the end of the runway, towards all of the revving engines and flashing headlights. They’d only do that for one reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d only celebrate the arrival of one person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix nearly pulls out of Seungmin’s hold on him just so he can lean forward and get a better look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a silhouette walking out in front of all the cars now. Tall. Slim. In pants so tight they look painted on. In a windbreaker unzipped to his belly button, showing off a smooth, tanned, hairless torso. Long, bleached blonde hair is pulled back into a lengthy ponytail. He’s gorgeous. Always is. Always will be. The man fearlessly stands in front of the dozen souped-up cars as they rev their engines, ready to burn tires and fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fly</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the far end of the runway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the distance, someone bellows through a megaphone but there’s too much distance, too many voices from the crowd, and too much echo to clearly hear the words. Felix has been to enough of these things to know what’s being said, though. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is the drag race event. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blah blah blah. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Winner gets a cash prize. Anyone placing any bets?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The announcement comes to an end. Blondie on the runway holds up an arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cars rev up almost in unison. A chorus of screaming engines and the raw, popcorn-pop of the exhaust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin audibly gulps. “Who the fuck is that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix grins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde man lowers his arm. Nine cars peel out, tires screeching like banshees as they rocket forward towards the goal posts 7,000 feet away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That,” Felix says, “is Hwang Hyunjin.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Black Car</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cars are fucking <em> loud </em>. Felix spots a Toyota 86. A souped-up Civic. A Challenger, he’s sure. It’s hard to tell the rest of the models through all of the tire smoke and the bursts of golden light from the sparklers and poppers and small fireworks someone’s just set off. Even as the cars peel out into the distance, all Felix can hear is the thunder that pours out of their mufflers. The screech of their tires. The loud roar of their engines. It’s thrilling. It’s exciting, in a vicious way. Like catching sight of a shark fin above the waves while out at the beach. It gets Felix’s blood pumping and now he’s all the more hype for the downhill.</p><p> </p><p>“Dammit, man,” Minho groans. “That could have been me out there! I could be showing them all how it’s done.”</p><p> </p><p>And that makes Jisung laugh at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, grow up.” Minho takes a playful swing at him. Only to forget that Changbin is standing between him and his target.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung slings a protective arm around Changbin’s shoulder to block the punch and Changbin shoots Felix a look, waggles his eyebrows in a way that lets Felix know, without a doubt, that Jisung’s in for it now.</p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to be forgotten, Seungmin presses in close behind Felix. He puts a hand on Felix’s hip and whispers into his ear, “Jaebum’s been keeping me from all this?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good fun,” Felix tells him. He tries to ignore the wave of goosebumps up his arms from Seungmin’s proximity. “You should meet Mark and Mark. They’re cool guys.”</p><p> </p><p>“You trying to get rid of me?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I’m trying to find you a way to pass the time while I do the downhill. It’s not exactly something a crowd can stand around and watch.” Felix looks over his shoulder to get a good look at Seungmin’s face.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t look as pissed as the tight grip on Felix’s hip indicates. If anything, he just looks like he can’t stand the thought of Felix being more than an arm’s length away. Felix laughs. “You’re cute.”</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin pouts. “You’re hot.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix says, “Stop worrying. You’ve got me, dude. Don’t you understand? You <em> have </em> me.”</p><p> </p><p>And maybe a little bit of reassurance is all Seungmin needs because he visibly relaxes. “I just don’t want anyone else ditching me tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not ditching you. I’m just trying to find you a ride to the finish line.”</p><p> </p><p>Movement catches Seungmin’s eye and he turns his head and jerks his chin. “That your friend?”</p><p> </p><p>Felix turns.</p><p> </p><p>If Hwang Hyunjin’s hot at a distance, he’s hotter up close. Expertly carved from marble like Michelangelo’s David or something.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” says Felix.</p><p> </p><p>He’s tall and slender, like Seungmin, and confidence radiates off his skin like it’s something he sprays on. Hyunjin meanders towards the crowd on the sidelines after the cars are some distance away. He puts a little swagger in his step, a little swivel in his hips, but he changes directions completely when he spots Felix in the crowd. As if Felix is more important than the dozens of people calling his name and waving and snapping photos of him like he’s some celebrity out in public.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Felix,” Hyunjin sings out as he approaches.</p><p> </p><p>Minho elbows Felix in the side. He whispers in his ear, “You weren’t fucking lying.”</p><p> </p><p>“You were still doubting me,” Felix shoots back. It feels like Minho doubts him just for fun.</p><p> </p><p>“Look. There’s lots of liars out here,” Minho says smoothly. He puts his blunt between his lips and sucks until the cherry burns bright and red and delicious. “Last dude who told me he knew somebody in the races scammed me out of five hundred bucks.”</p><p> </p><p>Jisung immediately tunes into the conversation. He leans around Minho to say, “I tracked him down and we beat his ass. Broke his wrist. Popped out a tooth. Would have gone for the car but that’s like kicking a dude in the dick. That’s like… low.”</p><p> </p><p>“We spoke diplomatically,” Minho lies through his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“In other words, you got your money back,” Felix assumes. </p><p> </p><p>“And more,” Jisung adds. “Interest.”</p><p> </p><p>“We handled it non-violently,” Minho insists. “Everyone was in mutual agreement. We did it all with kind words, handshakes and a legally-binding contract.” There were probably none of those things. Minho exhales smoke and folds his arms across his chest like he’s putting up a shield.</p><p> </p><p>And Felix wants to tease him more but Hyunjin’s right in front of them now and he’s holding up his hand for a high five. Felix goes for it.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin smells like expensive cologne and blue raspberry cigarillo smoke and the beads of sweat on his bare chest glisten like a sky full of stars, reflecting the headlights of the nearby vehicles.</p><p> </p><p>“No wonder you kept turning me down,” Hyunjin says, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair. “You’ve got a boyfriend. A super cute one at that.”</p><p> </p><p>And all Felix can respond with is, “Yeah, I do,” because it’s breaking news to him that Hyunjin’s been hitting on him. Since when? How blind has he been?</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a little late.” Seungmin pulls on Felix until Felix’s back is against his chest. He wraps both arms around Felix’s small waist like there’s still a chance, even a slim one, that he’ll lose Felix now. “Should have been a little quicker.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should have,” Hyunjin agrees.</p><p> </p><p>And to really seal the deal, Seungmin kisses the back of Felix’s neck. His mouth is cool against Felix’s sweaty skin. Like a refreshing ocean breeze during the wicked heat of midday. Like an icy sip of a frozen mixed drink at sunset.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin swings his head in Minho’s direction. “Weren’t you doing the drag tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh.” Minho rolls his eyes and exhales a thick cloud of weed smoke. It’s the good stuff. Felix can tell by the soursweet smell. Like fucking potpurri. It’s not the dirty dishwater-smelling shit Bomin and Daehwi spend too much of their money on, claiming ‘it’s the good stuff.’ Minho says, “We ran a goddamn <em> cop </em> off the road. Spun him around like a toy. Didn’t wanna risk getting the Beamer impounded or some shit so I left her at home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Valid.” Hyunjin pulls the blunt from between Minho’s fingers and Minho doesn’t even complain as Hyunjin takes a drag. When he speaks, smoke spills from between his pink, plump lips. “Didn’t we tell you at the shop that you can’t keep driving like a maniac when you dip your car <em> neon green</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Minho grunts. “It’s my favorite color.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a target on your head.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my <em> brand </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin sucks on the blunt a second time. He pulls it in hard like he’s trying to inhale the whole thing and drown his lungs in smoke. “With a color like that, you’re screaming ‘look at me look at me’ whenever you crank up. Cops look for that shit, you know. They see a nice car and get <em> offended</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“They don’t chase what they can’t catch,” Minho says. </p><p> </p><p>“They chased you,” Felix reminds him.</p><p> </p><p>“That cop must be new. He’ll just let me go next time.” Minho holds up his hand and Hyunjin silently obeys and gives him back his half-smoked rollup.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin exhales another white cloud, straight up into the night sky like he’s a smokestack. </p><p> </p><p>Seungmin’s arm is still wrapped possessively tight around Felix’s waist but his smile is kind and genuine when he looks up at Hyunjin and says, “You’re so fucking cool.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin looks over at him and cracks into a nervous fit of laughter. The cool guy facade cracks a little and reveals a little bit of the goof underneath. “Dude, I’m a fucking nerd. Standing in front of all those noisy cars gets me shaking in my shoes. When they zoom past me like that, I damn near shit myself every time.” He motions towards Minho’s blunt. “Why else do you think I needed a hit? Had to fucking mellow out before I fucking fainted.”</p><p> </p><p>Another burst of fireworks at the far end of the runway must signal the end of the drag. Like a slow-moving tidal wave, the cheers and excitement and noise churns through the crowd towards them, wave by wave, until they’re surrounded by whoops and hollers and movement.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin checks his watch. “Downhill starts in fifteen. I gotta get to the zone.” He turns his eyes towards Felix. “You better line up. You know Chan likes to stay prompt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it,” Felix says. “I’m not missing this. Not for the world.” Not when he’s got Minho and Jisung to prove himself to. Not when he’s got Seungmin to impress.</p><p> </p><p>“See ya there.” Hyunjin gives him a salute before he turns away, jeans clinging for dear life to his pert, wide ass. Hate to see him leave but it’s a wonder to watch him go.</p><p> </p><p>Felix turns his head towards Changbin, about to ask him if he’s ready to leave, but both Changbin and Jisung have vanished from Minho’s side. Swallowed by the crowd, perhaps, or probably off to find some private corner in the depths of the old airport compound. Felix doesn’t even want to know what Changbin’s getting up to but he’s positive that none of it will end in a marriage proposal and adoption papers for five golden retrievers.</p><p> </p><p>Around them, the crowd slowly begins to disperse. Most of the crowd is probably going to stay here. There’s still plenty of music to dance to. Plenty of cars to admire. Plenty of pretty people to try and make out with. The rest of the crowd’s heading back to their cars, ready to head to the downhill event.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a shame, really. Felix loves to watch Kevin and his offroad boyz when they take their cars to the dirt for a lap race around the old stadium. But because of time and driving distance restraints, Chan alternates between dirt night and downhill night and this week, it’s downhill night. </p><p> </p><p>That means Felix doesn’t have half as much time as he needs to get… further acquainted with Seungmin.</p><p> </p><p>Oh well. He’ll make do.</p><p> </p><p>Felix twists in the hoop of Seungmin’s arms until they are face to face, chest to chest. Seungmin really is cute. His hair. His eyebrow piercings. The way he looks down at Felix as if to study every piece and crevice of him. Felix puts one hand on Seungmin’s jaw and then gets up on his tiptoes to smash their lips together. It’s like Seungmin’s been waiting for this. It’s like he’s been dying to be chosen. He responds immediately with a soft moan before opening his mouth and accepting Felix’s tongue into his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Felix uses an arm braced around Seungmin’s neck to hold steady as he kisses Seungmin. As he carefully curls his tongue between Seungmin’s teeth.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin’s like a cranked up motor when he kisses. He can’t sit still. Little movements everywhere. Subtle, sure, but still hot to the touch. Seungmin rotates his hips in slow, grinding circles, thrusting against Felix’s abdomen. He turns his head one way to deepen the kiss, then turns his head the other way for a different angle. He takes in gulps of air between kisses like Felix is drowning him.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, shit,” Minho huffs from right next to them. “I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll fucking go. Hate being the odd one out.”</p><p> </p><p>But Felix barely hears the guy’s complaints. His ears ring from how sped up his pulse is. How fit to burst he is. His skin tingles with static in all the places he touches Seungmin. In all the places Seungmin touches him. Their height difference is staggering enough that Felix almost literally wants to climb him just to get closer to his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Seungmin senses that. He unhooks his arms from around Felix’s waist. He takes one of Felix’s ass cheeks in each hand and <em> squeezes </em>. Pulls. Lifts. </p><p> </p><p>Felix’s toes leave the dusty ground. The weightlessness surprises a moan out of him and he hoists up a leg to wrap around Seungmin’s narrow waist before he pulls back from the kiss and sucks in a well-needed breath of fresh air. “Wanna ride shotgun,” Felix asks. He usually leaves such an honored position for Changbin, his literal right hand man, but the dude’s gone. Off to see the wizard.</p><p> </p><p>“You bet,” Seungmin exhales, so close he practically speaks into Felix’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“We better get going then.” Felix peels himself out of the man’s grip but he grabs Seungmin by the wrist and leads him back towards the Mustang.</p><p> </p><p>🏁</p><p> </p><p>They have to leave the old airport and go down the road a bit. Not far. Only a couple of miles or so. Just farther inland, farther away from the outskirts of the city, until the flat grasslands devolve into rolling hills and the road starts swinging in gentle curls and switchbacks among them. </p><p> </p><p>The meetup location is in front of an old gas station. Place hasn’t been open in a decade but the sign beside the road still says NO GAS in fat, dark letters like someone comes out here and repaints it every couple of months.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we going to do,” Seungmin asks from the passenger seat as Felix finds a spot on the two-lane road between an old, grungy-looking Suzuki and a Subaru WRZ.</p><p> </p><p>Felix throws up the handbrake, puts the gear shift into neutral and relaxes back into his seat like he wants to take a nap. “What do you mean, what are we going to do?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the downhill?”</p><p> </p><p>Felix has to remember that Seungmin’s never been to one of these before. That he’s always been left slightly outside the loop. “It’s a race,” Felix tells him. “But there aren’t any laps. It’s just a straight shot from here to down there.” He points out the front windshield at the dark, winding road ahead of them. The ‘down there’ in question isn’t even <em> visible </em> with all the hills and trees that block the view. </p><p> </p><p>“Is it scary,” Seungmin asks. Rightfully so.</p><p> </p><p>“It can be tricky.” Felix has to be honest. “With laps, it’s really easy to get ahead and stay ahead if you break away from the pack. Out here, you have to play a little slower because of all of these curves and then make up time on what few straightaways we’ve got. It’s more about mental endurance than anything else.”</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin asks the more important question. “Is it safe?”</p><p> </p><p>And Felix dances around flat-out saying <em> no </em>. It’s a narrow two-lane road. It’s the middle of the night with no street lamps. Things can get hectic when everyone is bunched together trying to slow down for the sharper turns. Deer love these woods. The list goes on and on. But Felix says, “We haven’t had rain in a few days so the roads shouldn’t be slick. It’s not all about speed. The curves out here will have you by the throat if you keep your foot to the floor the whole time. There’s strategy involved. There’s care needed.”</p><p> </p><p>And Seungmin just goes, “Oh.” Like none of that is shit he’s ever thought about before. “Sounds fun.” And maybe he’s a little braver than Felix gives him credit for.</p><p> </p><p>He already knows that Changbin isn’t as brave as he wants to let on. He keeps his eyes on the puzzle games on his phone so he won’t have to keep his eyes on the road.</p><p> </p><p>Outside, more and more cars squeeze onto the street behind them. There aren’t many spectators here. There’s no real room to spread out. Not a lot of space to park. The real fun is down at the bottom of the hill, where the finish line is. Where the beach is. But people who don’t feel like circling halfway back to the city to get on the highway in order to beat the racers to the bottom of the hills usually chill out up here to watch the race start before going home for the night. Felix can recognize those cars at a glance. The old Nissans. The hand-me-down cars with two different colored doors. The Ford Raptor caked in red dirt. A minivan. An older Mustang that looks like it’s gotten sideswiped. They are here to watch, not participate. And that’s fine because the competition is fire. Felix clocks a BMW 4-Series. A 370Z. But it’s the sleek, matte black Camaro that’s just pulled up onto the street two rows behind him that makes him reach for the rearview mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God, no,” Felix hisses. “Please tell me I’m wrong. Please tell me I’m seeing things.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it,” Seungmin asks. He spins around in his seat to look out the back window. “I don’t see anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Camaro,” says Felix.</p><p> </p><p>“Which one is… Oh, the pretty one?”</p><p> </p><p>The angle’s tough but Felix can still see the passenger door of the Camaro when it swings open. Minho, of all people, gets out, but it’s just to pull up his seat and let someone out the back.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin climbs out and stretches his arms up to the sky. He and Minho talk for a bit, with the kind of casual comfort that makes Felix think they’ve met before tonight. They part ways. Hyunjin waves to the spectators and knocks on the windows of the drivers as he saunters towards the front, towards the starting line.</p><p> </p><p>Felix keeps his eyes on the rearview, however, and watches Minho push the passenger seat back into position and sink down into the car. Because of the open door, the interior lights are on and the man sitting behind the steering wheel has an unmistakable face.</p><p> </p><p>It can be no one else.</p><p> </p><p>Felix remembers Minho’s gloating words: <em> I got a personal invite from Chan </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuckballs,” Felix mutters.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin gently nudges Felix’s shoulder as if to snap him out of it. “Dude, what’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>Felix sinks back into the driver’s seat and tries not to cough up a lung in a sudden onslaught of anxiety. “Chan’s racing tonight,” he says. “With us.” Which is wild because Chan’s usually just here to oversee. To coordinate events, send out announcement messages, keep an eye on the prize money, watch out for the cops. That sort of thing.</p><p> </p><p>But Seungmin must not get how huge it is for Chan to be <em> in a race </em> because he tilts his head to the side, shrugs and says, “So?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t understand,” Felix tells him. He pushes his rearview mirror back into position. His fingers go to his silver ring. For luck. Perhaps just to fidget. “He’s big news.”</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin doesn’t seem at all threatened. “Are you doubting yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>And it’s funny how quickly such silly encouragement calms Felix’s nerves. He stops staring into his rearview and puts his eyes out the front windshield, where Hyunjin checks his watch one more time before taking position at the front of the pack of cars. “No,” Felix says, full of conviction. He puts his feet on the pedals and revs the engine and flashes his brights just like all of the other racers as Hyunjin raises his arms, ready to start things off. Felix drops the Mustang from neutral to first. “Are <em> you </em> doubting me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never,” Seungmin says. And then he slips his left arm beneath Felix’s right arm to reach across the center console. Instead of dropping his hand on top of Felix’s on the gear shift, he boldly places his palm right across Felix’s crotch, where his nerves and excitement have combined to have him rock hard in his jeans.</p><p> </p><p>The squeeze around his dick is oddly comforting and Felix tightens his grip on the steering wheel as Seungmin gently kneads his crotch.</p><p> </p><p>“Eyes on the road,” Seungmin says, even though the only thing Felix has his eyes on is the way ahead.</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin drops his arms.</p><p> </p><p>Tires squeal. Engines rev.</p><p> </p><p>The racers take off into the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Orange Glow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Base instinct will tell you to slam on the gas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just shove the pedal all the way. Just fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>go for it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road calls for it. It’s a long, straight, flat strip of black asphalt between here and the trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just floor it, yo!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix has done the downhill a few times before over the last several months and he’s learned that a lot of rookies do that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like the two cars right in front of him, squealing tires and pulling way, way, way ahead and vanishing into the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It feels like the right thing to do out here. Just accelerate off the line, run through the gears like a goddamn lunatic, get to top speed down the opening straight. Like in any other race. But it’s bait. The road looks lengthy and unassuming under the starry night sky and the blue wash of headlights but that first turn is a wicked right curve that almost comes out of fucking nowhere. There’s only one warning sign but, at that high speed, is anyone looking at signs? The turn is sharp and catches a lot of driver’s out. Even skilled ones. Felix has seen a handful of super nice cars go spinning into the grass. Maybe even roll. Depending on how much speed they have on them, they sometimes go sliding all the way to the trees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That curve forces everyone to slam on brakes, which, of course, makes all the racers bunch up around the turn as they try to avoid collisions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smart thing to do, Felix knows, is to hang back. Let the hungry wolf pack charge into the curve head-on. And when they’re all yanking on the handbrake to get around the bitch, that’s when you push past them. Take the inside of the curve. Floor it to get around and break ahead. Turtle beats the rabbit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So that’s what Felix does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits until his windshield’s flooded with the blinding red of brake lights from the 370Z, then he yanks hard on the steering wheel, pulls just a tad on the handbrake to make the back end of the Mustang swing out, and when he hears the tires squeal with friction, when he feels the car drift and drift and drift around the bend, that’s when he shoves the hand brake down, shifts to third and slams the pedal down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a brief fucking second of slip. Then the tires catch the road. The car lurches forward and flings them back into their seats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Seungmin shouts in excitement from the passenger seat as the Mustang pulls ahead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Felix screams. “That’s the first time I did that shit perfect.” Any other night and he would have waited too long to get on the gas, lost too much momentum and fucking spin out. Fucking go sideways into the gravel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But tonight, he does it perfectly, and the only thing he can see in his rearview are the headlights of the competition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t celebrate for long. Already, one of the pairs of headlights is pulling up on his ass, brighter and brighter. Right at his trunk, it feels. It’s the Camaro. It’s Chan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jesus fuck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, Felix can’t be surprised. These are Chan’s events. His races. He’s the one who drives up and down all the roads in the county, with Sana or Kevin or Hyunjin in his passenger seat, plotting out routes for new races. Of course Chan would know the tricks. The ideal racing lines. All the tricky spots. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he’d be right on Felix’s ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eyes on the road,” Seungmin encourages him. “You’ve got this, babe. You’ve got it in the bag.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Felix is so amped up on adrenaline that he can barely feel Seungmin’s pretty, slender hand vice-tight on his crotch. He takes his eyes off the rearview and focuses out the windshield. He knows this road. Maybe not as well as Chan or Sangyeon or Jacob, but he knows it. He knows there’s a switchback up ahead, a sharp and sloping s-curve that’ll force him to stay light on the accelerator and give the competition plenty of time to come crawling up his exhaust pipes again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It almost kills him to know that he’s got the lead but can’t floor it and increase the gap. He has to hold off, stay loose. These curves are tight and this isn’t fucking Mario Kart where Lakitu on his magic cloud can snatch cars out of the air before they go sailing over a cliff. He has to fucking do this right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix stays steady on the accelerator, averaging about 60 or so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s painful to not just fucking push 100. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chooses to ignore the sleek, black shape of Chan’s Camaro as it pulls out from behind him and slips past in the other lane, engine roaring. He chooses to ignore the Beamer that’s not Minho’s eating up the street on his six, coming in hot. If he gives too much of a fuck about the cars, he won’t give enough of a fuck about the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Beamer passes him so close on the right that he swears the Beamer lightly taps him on the way past. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ignore it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix eases off the gas, spins the wheel light to the right and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the left. The Mustang twists. The back end swings out wide and the tires scream as he slams the gas, spins the wheel back to the right and shoves the car into a drift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sees the brake lights ahead of him. Sees the Beamer go sliding into the gravel off the road’s shoulder. It nearly runs up against the guardrail as the switchback catches the driver off-guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chan’s a bit more prepared. He’s not drifting but he’s lowered his speed, heavy on the brake, hard on the turn. He goes almost too sharp into the inside. He loses precious time and Felix literally swings the car around him, hugging the outside edge of the curve, before Felix straightens out the steering wheel and gets them going straight again. He accelerates to make up speed and his heart races as he watches the Camaro in his rearview. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Seungmin cries out. “I thought we were gonna fucking roll. I thought we were gonna fucking crash.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It feels that way sometimes,” Felix says. Because gravity likes to operate in its one specific way and, with the way they race, they fight gravity every step of the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought he’d have a bit more breathing room but it takes him longer than usual to get some speed built back up as the tires spin and spew up smoke. The Camaro passes them. The Beamer overtakes them. The 370Z comes right up alongside them. Other headlights show up in the rearview as the other racers catch up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They go from first to fourth just like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” Seungmin exhales, “you’ve got this. Don’t fucking rage out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix just grits his teeth. “I’m fine.” He’s gotta keep his speed even. There’s still the other half of the s-bend coming up. “We just gotta take it slow,” he says, more to himself than to Seungmin. “No need to fucking rush.” It would be so easy to try and gun it and make up the lost seconds but it would be simpler, Felix thinks, to keep an even speed as opposed to the constant braking and accelerating, braking and accelerating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His theory has some merit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Beamer learns from the last curve they took and slows down early, eases into the turn early. Anything to keep from winding up against the guardrail again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Camaro cuts from the outside of the curve to the inside like the Nascar racers do and it buys Chan the time he needs to come out of the other side of the curve ahead of the 370Z. Now Chan’s in first. Where he ought to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix powers through the curve. He doesn’t want to risk losing any more speed or grip by swinging into another drift. He just eats the inside as tight as possible and then guns the engine as soon as he can straighten out the wheel. It’s enough to get him even with the Beamer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road dips up here, cutting through the hills to take them down to the coast. This is where it starts to feel a little perilous. The downward slope and the way everything whizzes by in a blur  almost</span>
  <em>
    <span> invites</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to push the pedal to the floor, but with gravity yanking you forward like this, it’s even more important to keep a foot ready above the brakes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s pretty out here,” Seungmin mentions. “The view…” He leans forward in his seat to stare up out of the windshield. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix has come through here during the day a few times before, at regular-person speed. He knows the trees thicken up around here. He knows there’s a stone bridge that takes them over the river. He knows that the hills drop off severely enough out to the right that you can catch your first peek of the ocean from up here. But he’s never seen the view at night before, as he’s always in a race and has to focus. He can’t imagine how beautiful it must be with the stars all bright and the moon all full, reflecting in the mirror surface of the water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s pretty… but it’s not as pretty as you, though,” Seungmin says. And he’s trying to fucking be sexy but it’s hard for him to be all velvety and slick when he has to half-shout to be heard over the engine as Felix picks up speed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t seen pretty yet,” Felix tells him. He can’t take his eyes off the road at the moment and he’s never been good at talking dirty, so he just comes right out and says, “Wait until you see me naked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe it doesn’t get the desired effect because Seungmin throws his head back and laughs and laughs and laughs. Almost to the point where Felix regrets saying it. Almost to the point where his focus starts to slip as embarrassment takes its place. But maybe it ends up working after all because Seungmin, with just as little finesse, says, “I can’t wait to see you naked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe the huge break in tension is what Felix needs because he chuckles and relaxes his shoulders, relaxes his spine, and finds it just a tad easier to keep the Mustang in the center of the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s another curve. Tight. Narrow. But Felix says ‘fuck it’ to braking or drifting. He just eases off the accelerator a tad to give him the control he needs to keep the Mustang from fucking spinning out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Around them, the trees thin. Not by much but enough for Felix to peer through the gaps between tree trunks and snag a glimpse of the white-sand beach below. Beneath the glow of the moon, the sand practically glows, and it doesn’t help that there’s dozens of headlights down there too, spilling out bright light and welcoming the racers to the sand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the finish line is still two and a half miles away and this is not the time to slack off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next curve comes up. Fortunately, it’s a little wider, a little more forgiving, and Felix can keep his speed up as he grips the wheel and tugs it to the left. In fact, once he’s sure the tires will stay grippy, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>picks up</span>
  </em>
  <span> speed. Pushes past 60 into the 70s. Close to the 80s. It’s the biggest burst of speed he’s put on since the starting line and it’s because he knows it’s his last real chance to make a stand before the last straightaway. He gets in front of the Beamer and squints even farther ahead. He nearly gasps when he realizes just how much distance Chan has put between the Camaro and the 370Z. “Shit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can catch him,” Seungmin says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s no catching him,” Felix snaps back. “There’s no catching Chan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seungmin tells him, “You can try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The left curve eases up. The road shoots into a right curve, then straightens up through an orange-lit tunnel. God. He hates this fucking tunnel. It burrows through one of the sharper hills but it’s older. Tighter. More claustrophobic. Makes him think he’s gonna blow off his side mirrors. The echo of the Mustang’s exhaust is so loud that he can hear it through the glass like he’s got the windows down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s so fucking odd. Seungmin’s barely known him for three hours yet he can sense Felix’s apprehension like he’s Changbin or something. “Breathe,” he says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it’s just that simple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix inhales. He exhales. He tightens his grip on the wheel and is no longer concerned with the way it rattles beneath his fists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He risks taking his eyes off the road to glance up at Seungmin, and even with the hideous lighting stretching nasty shadows across the guy’s face and painting his skin orange, Seungmin is so fucking handsome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix faces forward. His heart races with brand new excitement. Seungmin gets his blood pumping in a way racing just </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They break out of the tunnel. Felix lets up on the gas. His speed drops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Beamer pulls around him. Gets in front of him. Sees the sharp turn coming too late. The driver pulls hard on the handbrake and the car jacks sideways as the tires lock up. The Mustang almost rear ends her, that’s how wide the Beamer swings. Felix has to pull hard to the side and the whole vehicle shakes as both left tires hit the dirt on the side of the road. They lose grip and lose speed, but not as much speed as the Beamer. Felix gets all four wheels back on the road and the hook of a right turn comes easy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix isn’t sure when Seungmin finally unhanded his dick through his jeans but he becomes aware that both of Seungmin’s hands are now on the dashboard, fingers splayed wide as he braces himself while they rumble and halfway-spin through the next banking turn. “You alright over there,” Felix asks. “Not gonna fucking hurl on my leather seats, are you?” He made Jeongin clean up that mess himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m good,” laughs Seungmin. “It’s like a fucking rollercoaster.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on,” Felix tells him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they bank out of the curve, they’re driving parallel to the beach. On the horizon off to the left, Felix sees the bright white lights of the highway, the dark silhouette of the cliffs and hills they just raced down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he does not expect to see is that the 370Z has caught up with the Camaro.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Felix chokes out. “Is that dude trying to run Chan off the road?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because there’s not much road to be run off of out here. The two lane narrows as it hugs the base of the cliffs and if the 370Z keeps Chan pressed to the inside of the curve, the Camaro will wind up in the rocks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chan’s in there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minho’s in there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s still too curvy and risky for speed but Felix floors it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chan hates dirty racing. Everyone at these meetups knows that. The races are dangerous enough with all this speed and power they’re handling, so someone purposefully knocking into cars goes against Chan’s one big rule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Felix risks it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He puts the Mustang right behind the 370Z, dumps a little bit more speed into her and rams right in. The exact opposite of what he pulled with that cop at the start of the evening. The collision rattles through the car, makes Felix jerk forward in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Technically, it’s not all that hard of a bump, but it’s enough to offset the 370Z and send her swinging wide towards the outside curve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t buy Chan much breathing room. In fact, the Camaro’s forced to slow down farther as the 370Z’s front end swings into its lane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The 370Z bolts forward. The engine roars. It takes off out of the last curve and rockets down the final straightaway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s fucking bogus, man,” Seungmin comments. “They nearly rammed Chan off the road.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix knows not to worry about it. Maybe Chan will disqualify him or at least revoke his prize money. Or maybe Chan will just call up Juyeon and Johnny and they’ll handle things ‘non-violently’ and ‘diplomatically’ like they do with all rule breakers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless, Felix doesn’t feel as good as he wants to when he slams hard on the gas pedal and pulls in front of Chan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t feel as good as he wants to when the Mustang goes flying past the checkered flag Hyunjin waves from the side of the road.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Purple Soda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The driver of the 370Z is a dude with buzzed-short hair who snatches the prize money out of Hyunjin’s hands and blows kisses to the applauding crowd and parade waves like he’s fucking famous or something. Jerk. He even blatantly ignores Felix when he tries to say something to him. Just turns around and shoves his way through the crowd, yelling that he’s the best, that everyone should <em> fucking suck my dick </em>!</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Seungmin tells him. He gives Felix’s shoulders a squeeze like he’s trying to give him a celebratory massage.</p><p> </p><p>Since Felix came in second place, he gets considerably less cash (about $2000 or so, the hundred-dollar bills wrapped up tight with rubber bands) but he gets a sweaty kiss on the cheek from Hyunjin as consolation.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Felix says over his shoulder to Seungmin’s raised eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Third place goes to the driver of the Beamer. A skinny, knobby-kneed kid named Yedam who barely looks old enough to have his license. He accepts the prize money but stares down at the roll of cash with wide eyes like he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to do with it.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for hanging out with us tonight, folks,” Hyunjin shouts to the crowd. “Keep an eye on your phones for news of the next event!” The crowd shouts and whoops and hollers. “Who’s ready to see the offroad boyz?” The dirt races always bring a bigger crowd. “See ya next time!” Hyunjin’s voice has gotten hoarse from all of his yelling tonight. When he rubs his throat after his speech, obvious pain jolts across his pretty face. He still smiles, though. “You coming to the after party,” Hyunjin croaks out in Felix’s direction. “Chan’s place. As usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m doing something else tonight,” Felix states with an apologetic frown.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin props his chin on Felix’s shoulder and boldly declares, “I’m something else.”</p><p> </p><p>That gets a laugh out of Hyunjin. It’s usually loud and high and clear like bells but, tonight, it’s mainly air and gasping.</p><p> </p><p>“No more shouting,” Felix warns him. “Or your shit will be gone for days. Trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyunjin nods and gives him a thumb’s up.</p><p> </p><p>Someone breaks away from the crowd, Yeji, it looks like, and excitedly pulls Hyunjin away.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, the crowd around them disperses. With the races over with, there’s no longer a reason to stand this far away from the sand. There’s music to dance to. Cars to admire. A moon to watch reflected in the ocean. Someone’s got hot dogs smoking on a grill.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna go get us some drinks.” Seungmin leans down to speak into Felix’s ear. His chest presses against Felix’s back and his mouth feels so cool and smooth against Felix’s skin. Water in a desert. It ignites a fire near Felix's groin.</p><p> </p><p>Felix tilts his head to give Seungmin more of his neck, which Seungmin greedily lavishes with soft bites and harsh kisses. Then, suddenly, Felix snaps out of the spell Seungmin’s put him under. “A soda, please,” he chokes out. “I still gotta drive us back to the city.”</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin nods. “Sure thing.” Then he unwraps his arms from around Felix’s shoulders and his body heat is missed immediately.</p><p> </p><p>Felix watches Seungmin saunter away for a few seconds. Spectacular calves. Narrow waist. Long torso. Not much ass at all but cake is cake. It can still get ate. Even with his height, Seungmin easily melts into the crowd, just another shadowy blur beneath the moonlight. Felix turns in a slow half-circle to admire the rave-like energy as people move from one end of the beach to the other. It’s a little bittersweet, this moment. He wants to celebrate. He fucking deserves it! It’s his first time ever placing in the downhill event, his first time ever getting prize money--even if it is only second place--but the tail end of that race still leaves a bad taste in his mouth and as soon as he sees Chan and Minho a few yards away, Felix sprints towards them on a mission.</p><p> </p><p>“Chan, I’m so sorry,” he shouts as he runs up on them. He grabs hold of Minho’s shirt sleeve so that he won’t get too far away. “I saw that guy pinning you--”</p><p> </p><p>Chan holds up a hand to quiet him. “Chill,” he says. Not in a mean or even in a stern way.</p><p> </p><p>Minho pries Felix’s fingers off of his shirt. “Dude, don’t interrupt. We’re having a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix keeps going, still jacked up on his last little spike of adrenaline. “If I had noticed him sooner, I would have--”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude.” There’s an ice-cold look to Chan’s eyes that Felix has never seen. Or, more accurately, it’s never been aimed at him before. “It’s alright, Felix.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Alright?  </em>“Is it,” he asks, still breathing heavy from his running. “That guy could have killed you both!”</p><p> </p><p>“And you nearly got hurt yourself,” Chan fires back. “You know how much I hate seeing cars get banged up. Do you see how fucked your front bumper is?”</p><p> </p><p>Now that Felix thinks about it, he doubts he even gave the Mustang a good once-over after he got out. Perhaps he took a harder hit when ramming the 370Z than he first thought. “Changbin can buff it out.” Maybe. Possibly. There's a chance.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not the point,” Chan states.</p><p> </p><p>“But aren’t you going to--”</p><p> </p><p>“Felix, look,” Chan says, “don’t make a big fucking deal out of it right now. I’ve got other shit to keep an eye on.” He pulls his phone out of his pants pocket and waves it around as if to demonstrate.</p><p> </p><p>This feels a little unprecedented. Chan is going easy on someone? “Are you not going to do <em> anything </em>,” Felix asks.</p><p> </p><p>Chan shares a look with Minho before he turns back around to face Felix. His expression is softer. Warmer. He attempts to smile. “It’s already being handled, Felix.” He reaches out and slaps a heavy hand down on Felix’s shoulder. “No one scratches my car and gets away with it. I’ve already called up Juyeon and Hyunsuk.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m also gonna get my one good lick in,” Minho pipes up.</p><p> </p><p>And Felix has never been this comforted by listening to a threat of physical violence before.</p><p> </p><p>It must show on his face because-- “Jesus fucking Christ, Fester,” Minho retorts, using that godawful nickname again, “do you seriously think Chan’s gone soft?”</p><p> </p><p>And Felix laughs it off because maybe he<em> is </em> being a little extra.</p><p> </p><p>“Go have fun, Felix,” Chan tells him. “It’s your night.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix shakes his head. “It was supposed to be yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“All of these nights are my nights,” Chan replies. And he doesn’t even give Felix a chance to respond before he loops an arm around Minho’s elbow and leads the man away.</p><p> </p><p>Still feeling a little dazed, Felix attempts to find Seungmin. But even when he swings by where the grill and a few coolers are set up, he doesn’t spot Seungmin’s tall, lanky frame. Gosh. Perhaps they walked right past each other in the crowd. Should he wait around or keep looking? Ugh. It feels so weird to just stand here alone doing nothing but kicking sand, though.</p><p> </p><p>He starts walking towards some of the fancy cars in the parking lot and nearly instantly catches sight of Jisung’s Corvette. That must mean--</p><p> </p><p>“Felix, guess what,” Changbin shouts from off to Felix’s left, nearly startling him.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up,” Felix asks.</p><p> </p><p>Changbin steps through the silvery moonlight, his face practically glowing as he smiles from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant,” Changbin states.</p><p> </p><p>He says it so seriously that it's almost believable. For a few seconds. Felix rolls his eyes. “Where’d you two fuck? At the old airport?” That would explain why he hadn’t seen a hair on Changbin’s head in like an hour. Since the drag race.</p><p> </p><p>“He blew my back out in one of the old hangars. Had to use our phones as flashlights, it was so dark in there. We got walked in on by Kevin and Jacob but they were there to fuck too so we just gave each other thumbs ups, then they went to the other end.” Changbin gasps as he remembers something. “Jisung said he’s gonna let me drive the Corvette back. Do you know how huge that is? Car guys hate letting other guys drive their cars. I think we’ll be married by the end of the month.” He gasps again. "By the end of the week! How much is it to rent a U-Haul?"</p><p> </p><p>Felix asks, “Does his apartment allow pets?” At least one of them remembers Changbin's adoption plans.</p><p> </p><p>“Hopefully. If they don’t, I’ve got some puppy ear headbands and a tail plug.”</p><p> </p><p>“Changbin,” Felix shouts, his eyes wide. As long as they've been friends and he didn't know Changbin was into that.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> joking </em>.” Changbin slaps Felix’s back in good spirits. “I don’t have any puppy ear headbands.”</p><p> </p><p>But what about the tail... Felix decides not to ask. Instead, he asks, “But how is Minho gonna get back home?"</p><p> </p><p>“Who?” Changbin tilts his head. “Oh, the red head? He has a name?” He snorts.</p><p> </p><p>Felix is about to seriously question how Minho is going to get back if he can't fit in Jisung's car but then he immediately remembers Chan and how he’d pulled on Minho’s arm almost <em>possessively</em>. Didn't Minho say they were having a moment? “Never mind. I know how he’ll get home.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s swell.” Changbin skips away, looking around to search the crowd. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Jisung again so that I can have twins.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is <em> not </em> how that works,” Felix shouts after him. He’s not even sure Changbin hears him because his friend is already bouncing up and down to the hardstyle EDM pounding through the speakers mounted in someone’s popped-up trunk.</p><p> </p><p>Felix continues his search for Seungmin. The beach is crowded enough that it's a very real possibility that they are walking right past each other. Or even following right behind each other, too far away to see. Shit. It will be easier to stand in one place and watch the crowd or, hell, go right back to where they separated to wait for Seungmin. But now that Felix is moving, he kind of wants to stay moving. The music feels like it's in his veins and he wants to keep moving, wants to find someone to dance with, wants a mouth on his neck and a hand in his hair. Felix strolls past a line of souped-up cars where a group of dudes with high-end DSLRs and camera equipment are having a full on photo shoot with the expensive, imported vehicles. There's a bright yellow fucking Lamborghini that's all dramatically lit by a pair of lights someone's got set up. The car is fucking gorgeous. Waxed so thoroughly that it shines like it's beneath some sunlight even though it is the middle of the night. Felix loves his Mustang dearly but he's a car guy and his heart surges with want and desire at the sight of the thing. He longs to sit behind the wheel of such a thing. He longs to slam his foot on the gas and have the 0 to 60 in 2.9 seconds slam him into his seat like he's on a roller coaster. He'll never be able to afford the goddamn thing, he's positive, but a boy can dream. A boy can salivate at the mouth and get a little horny at the sight of all those curves.</p><p> </p><p>There's not much else to see on this side of the beach. The crowd thins. They're too far from the music to hear anything but off-beat echoes. It doesn't look like Seungmin's out here among the couples fondling each other or taking risky dips into the dark, poorly-lit ocean. So Felix circles back and walks the other way, back to where Hyunjin handed him his prize for second place, back to where his banged-up Mustang is parked, back to where he and Seungmin originally parted ways.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin’s not there.</p><p> </p><p>Felix almost goes for his phone in his pocket but then he remembers that he got Seungmin to grab his crotch before he got Seungmin to give him his number. Wow, they are doing shit backwards. But it’s okay. Life is short.</p><p> </p><p>So Felix keeps walking. Someone's started up a makeshift bonfire, burning trash and driftwood. The smoke smells a little funny but there are people gathered around the flames regardless, talking and laughing and guzzling down beer and applauding a scratchy-voiced singer as she strums on her acoustic guitar. Past them, there's a circle of off-road rally cars that can only belong to Kevin and his offroad boyz. They are quite popular. Quote-unquote celebrities in their town's racing scene. Felix spots Kevin's coiffed hair and Asahi's bleached blonde curls and Changmin's long, skinny neck and Jihoon's cotton candy pink hair and Sunwoo's too-hot-for-this-weather leather jacket and the cloud-white smoke that drifts up from Younghoon's vape pen. They are like the cool kids that sit at their own table and Felix feels a prickle of apprehension as he steps towards them, hesitates, steps towards them, hesitates. Changmin must spot him in the headlights of one of the cars because he turns his head and the two of them meet eyes. The moment is brief, though, and before Felix can even blink, Changmin is already looking away and rejoining the conversation with his friends. Right. They are out of his league. Still. Felix gulps and spins away before the rest of them can spot him.</p><p> </p><p>At the other end of the beach, the brightly-painted cars with the multicolored neon in the undercarriage are grouped up in a semicircle, headlights bathing the sand in bright white, music that sounds like it's got lyrics in Russian pulsing from bass-heavy speakers.</p><p> </p><p>Felix has only been mingling in the crowd there for a handful of seconds before he realizes that Tuan has come up on his right and Lee has approached him from the left. The pretty Marks. Both of them. At the same time. Uh oh.</p><p> </p><p>“Felix,” Mark Tuan shouts, draping an arm over Felix’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Mark Lee echoes him. “Felix! My man!”</p><p> </p><p>When did he become their friends? Felix has been in this circuit for a while now but this is the first time either of the Marks have spoken directly to him. He’s never been important enough. Memorable enough. He's never placed high enough in a race.</p><p> </p><p>“This was your first time getting on the podium, right,” Tuan asks rhetorically.</p><p> </p><p>“Congrats,” says Lee. He's been working out, it seems, if the sculpt of his shoulders and arms exposed by his sleeveless shirt says anything. The muscles almost don't fit his soft, boyish face and the trim, proper angles of his fresh hair cut. "We knew you had it in you."</p><p> </p><p>Felix looks from one Mark to the other. He’s shorter than them both and, even outside with the cool breeze off the ocean pushing back Felix’s hair, he still feels swaddled by their combined body heat. “Thanks,” he tells him. “I’ve been trying for a while now.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been watching you improve,” says Lee. “And maybe crushing on you a little bit. You're so passionate.” He looks over the top of Felix’s head to peer at Tuan. </p><p> </p><p>“You busy tonight,” Tuan asks, looking down at Felix with a bright and slightly wicked grin. It’s been a while since he’s shaved, Felix notices, but the peach fuzz on his chin and above his top lip suits his mildly rugged looks. He's handsome in a model-like way. Like he should be in magazine ads or walking designer runway shows instead of sweating under car hoods in the summer heat, tweaking engines and checking oil levels. "We really hope you're not busy tonight."</p><p> </p><p>“Because we’ve been thinking,” Lee tells him. “I mean... We've been talking and discussing and shit. And Mark really wants to try taking two.”</p><p> </p><p>“I watched too many videos. I'm hooked on the idea. And I really want you to be the second, Felix,” Tuan says, “and Mark thinks you'll be perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>And Felix almost asks ‘try taking two of what?’ But then he looks at the way Tuan bites his pillowy-soft bottom lip. Then he looks at the way Lee leans in towards him, like he’s ready to catch Felix’s lips in a kiss already. Right here in front of everyone. <em> Take two dicks </em>, Felix’s brain belatedly supplies. The revelation surprises a laugh out of him. He puts a finger on his own chest. “Me?”</p><p> </p><p>“We just wanna try it out,” Lee explains. “It might not even work the way we want it to but we both agreed you probably wouldn’t get weird about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you say,” Tuan asks.</p><p> </p><p>And they are both so oddly eager about this. Being stared at by one of them is wild enough. Like having the god Apollo bless you with a smile. Both of them staring at him at the same time gets Felix’s face so hot he has to wipe actual sweat off of his forehead. God, that sounds like a wonderful idea, but-- “I’m already taking someone home tonight,” he says. </p><p> </p><p>The Marks don’t look half as upset or put-out as Felix fears they would. “Some other time,” Lee asks, still full of hope. His hand slides down Felix's sweaty back.</p><p> </p><p>Tuan tilts his head. “Next weekend maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>“Call me,” Felix states before his brain completely shorts out and has him drooling.</p><p> </p><p>That's a good enough answer for them. They exchange numbers and promise they'll 'practice.' Whatever that entails.</p><p> </p><p>And it’s not too much longer after the three of them separate that Seungmin manages to find Felix. He's a cold, damp hand reaching out of the mass of partygoers.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, I looked all over for you,” he says, his voice hangs in a shrilly, shrieky octave.</p><p> </p><p>Felix almost startles. “Sorry. I had to find Chan. And then I saw--”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you’d left me,” Seungmin interrupts, breathless. His cheeks are pink from exertion. Like he's been running. Like he's been panicking. He looks so sweet. And maybe even a little lost. A little in over his head. Felix kind of wants to eat him.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t I promise you I wasn’t going to ditch you,” Felix tells him. He pries Seungmin's vice-tight grip off of his arm. “I was looking for you too but got caught up. Now that I’ve placed in a race, I suddenly mean enough for people to want to talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin presses a can of grape Fanta into Felix’s palm. “You meant enough before this race,” he says. "I liked you before you placed on the podium. Remember?" Then he tilts his can of malt beer to his lips and downs a noisy gulp or two.</p><p> </p><p>Panic subsides. Tempers quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Crisis averted.</p><p> </p><p>Felix sighs in relief and pops open his can of soda and it fizzes up just as he’s taking his first sip. Purple, sugary sweet soda gets across his mouth and chin before he can even swallow and the mess chokes him up.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” Seungmin huffs. He steps close. “I guess it got shook up while I was running around trying to find you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright,” Felix laughs it off. He's kind of glad for this little bit of nonsense. The last of the tension between them breaks and now they are back on track. Felix shakes the majority of the liquid off of his fingers with a shake of his hand. Then he takes another sip and the carbonated soda bubbles up fiercely beneath his nose and floods his senses with the scent of artificial grapes. "Ahh! How is it still foaming up?"</p><p> </p><p>“Here. Let me wipe that off for you,” offers Seungmin. But instead of producing a napkin or wet wipe or anything practical, he just leans forward and crushes their mouths together. He wipes his tongue across Felix's bottom lip. The kiss is terribly, awfully sticky. Both of their lips are damp from their sweet beverages but that just makes the taste a lot more unique. A lot more fun.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, it’s so fucking good. Breathtaking, almost, with how they try to choke on each other. Seungmin’s so great at kissing. At leading. Setting the pace.</p><p> </p><p>Felix lets him. He shuts his eyes. Lets Seungmin put his fingers on his chin and tilt his head back. Felix opens his mouth wider and Seungmin’s tongue immediately dives inside. It brushes over his lips, across the fronts of his teeth, presses against his own tongue. Little electric jolts of arousal bounce between them. Felix feels his stomach flutter. Feels himself get hard. Seungmin drags his hand along Felix’s sharp jaw and down towards his neck before his sticky fingers clamp down around Felix’s throat. Felix whimpers and presses his hips forward, ruts against Seungmin's narrow hip.</p><p> </p><p>Even this little bit feels good. And Felix moans into the sensation as Seungmin kisses and sucks away the sloppy soda mess.</p><p> </p><p>Felix reaches out his arm, snakes it around Seungmin’s slim waist and then pulls the man that much closer. There’s not much space between them already so getting rid of the last of the distance gets Felix all riled up as Seungmin’s torso presses flush with his. As he feels the curved impression of Seungmin's dick against his lower stomach. The heat’s turned up so high. Like night has turned to day and they are both roasting beneath the midday sun.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin draws back, legitimately breathless. Actually gasping. “Holy shit,” he exhales at not much louder than a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>The sentiment is mutual.</p><p> </p><p>“I have <em> got </em> to get you in my bed,” Felix states bluntly. He’s never been too good at being flirty. At talking dirty. Nothing wrong with asking for what you want, right?</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin leans away so he can have room to swallow another few gulps of his beer. Felix takes another swig of his Fanta and watches, entranced, as the man's Adam's apple bobs up and down as he drinks. Seungmin lowers the can from in front of his mouth and says, in all seriousness, “I know one race I can make you come first in.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix has to think about it. And it’s so bad--so <em> cheesy </em>--that it nearly ruins the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Felix turns all the way around so he doesn’t have to face Seungmin when he ugly laughs. When he fucking <em> guffaws </em>. When he halfway spits up his soda.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious,” Seungmin whines.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t doubt you.” Felix barely manages to get the words out between wheezes.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin tugs on him until Felix faces him again, until they are chest to chest again. “I’m gonna put you in sport,” he growls.</p><p> </p><p>Felix’s cheeks inflate as he holds back a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“If you catch my drift,” Seungmin adds with a waggle of his eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p>God. He's doing it on purpose now.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck. Stop,” Felix complains. "Please!"</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin keeps the bad racing puns going. “I’ll make you see the checkered flag. I’ll-- I’ll--” He scrambles for another awful comparison. “I’ll grab you by the handbrake. Pop open your hood. I'll--” He's <em>still</em> going! "I'll make you spray windshield wiper fluid."</p><p> </p><p>Felix kisses him to shut him up. Because my god he needs to shut Seungmin up. When Seungmin pulls away and gets halfway through a sentence about ‘checking Felix’s oil,’ Felix pushes forward on his tiptoes and kisses him quiet again. He puts his hand in Seungmin’s hair and holds him still. Kisses him silly.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin finally abandons his bad jokes to moan into Felix’s mouth. To rut forward and grind their hips together with such a tantalizingly slow rhythm that Felix trembles and shivers like he’s that close to the edge already.</p><p> </p><p>That’s it. He’s had enough! He can’t take much more.</p><p> </p><p>Felix pulls away. Sucks in a breath. He at least pretends to think about Changbin and reminds himself that his friend has his own plans for the rest of the night. That’s all Felix needs to remember. He lifts his Fanta to his mouth and drains the last of the can in one gulp like it’s gonna get him drunk. He grabs Seungmin’s hand and pulls him towards where the Mustang is parked. He has got to get Seungmin back to his apartment. “Hope you don’t mind me speeding,” he says, his voice low and gravelly and needy.</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin follows him obediently, sucking the last of the liquid out of his beer can. “I know a shortcut.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://curiouscat.me/TheSwingbyJHF">cc</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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